Breaking Free-DFA 12
by Dyna Dee
Summary: After a confrontation with Heero, Duo packs his bags, leaving Quatre and the others wondering about the true reason behind it.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own GW nor profit from my storytelling.

Breaking Free

By Dyna Dee

Warnings: angst

Quatre's eyes shifted nervously from the angrily pacing Japanese boy to his two tense friends who, along with himself, stayed well out of the other boy's way.

Heero was more than angry, he was furious. His body was tense and rigid as he paved a path into the carpet in front of the fireplace of their latest safehouse.

The four of them had staggered into the two-story, barely patched together farmhouse during the last half hour after having completed a difficult and frustrating mission. The orders had been to take out a spaceport near Berlin. A strategic plan was mapped out and each pilot was assigned a specific target to demolish and then destroy any mobile suits within their assigned parameter. They were then directed to retreat to a safe distance as a ready back up, if needed. If the plan was executed correctly, the base and space port would be completely and expeditiously destroyed when each solo objective was achieved.

The aquamarine eyes turned to gaze at the front door. The reason for Heero's anger and the other's consternation should be coming through there at any moment. 'Duo, whatever possessed you to act so rashly?' Quatre asked himself as he wondered at his friend's actions. The pilot of Deathscythe had completed his part of the mission quickly and efficiently, destroying the shuttles on the launch pad, and those that were on the field in a cue, ready for take off, that just happened to be filled with mobile suits for space. He then followed the second part of his mission, obliterating the attacking ground troops of Leo's. At that point, he was to retreat until the others finished their assigned tasks. But for some reason, Duo turned again to the battle field and had begun to fight recklessly. He gleefully charged any enemy in his or his fellow pilot's path, whether they were attacking or retreating. Each of the other pilots attempted several times to return Duo back to the mission's plan, urging him to retreat as he often veered into their paths, but to no avail. Duo fought on, putting himself constantly at risk, throwing his gundam into one battle after another.

As Heero finished with his designated targets and ordered through the com a retreat, a sudden and unexpected blast from a hidden laser cannon bolted out from an innocuous building just off the southern side of the tarmac. The beam shot out, aimed at Wing. But the potentially deadly weapon was diverted when Duo threw Deathscythe into the beam's path, the laser piercing a large hole into the right shoulder of Deathscythe as he threw himself perpendicular to the ground to intercept it. The red laser beam cut deeply into the almost impervious gundanium metal, causing the large gundam to spin on it's side in mid air. With the horrendous sound of metal crashing and skidding across the asphalt, the black gundam came rolling to a stop on the tarmac to stop at Wing's feet. That gundam's powerful beam cannon immediately lifted and took out the laser cannon and building with one perfectly aimed blast.

As the black gundam slowly, and with some effort, climbed to it's knees, Wing jumped into the air and transformed into flight mode. Circling the base, he dove and effortlessly picked up the damaged gundam and the vocally protesting pilot by the gundanium shoulders and retreated. The other gundams suits and pilots followed silently, guarding their return to the safehouse.

Over the COM unit, Duo, his adrenaline coursing wildly through his body, ranted and cursed at the enemy as he was forcibly carried away from the crippled launch site, vowing loudly to return and single-handedly obliterate what was left of it from off the face of the earth. The other pilots listened to his tirade with mixed feelings. Heero kept his COM unit off, an ominous sign of his displeasure.

One by one, each pilot entered the safehouse. Heero had been the first to arrive, his mood, evident to each consecutive arriver, a warning of an inevitable confrontation with Duo.

In silent agreement, the other three pilots decided to be present when Heero confronted Duo about his deviation from the mission plan and his recklessness. In truth, they were all upset at their friend's abandonment of discipline that endangered his gundam and his own well being. They each silently realized that Heero's present mood was volatile, and they didn't want past mistakes to happen again, threatening their friendships. 

The Arabian's eyes shifted to Trowa, looking for some kind of reassurance from the taller boy, but the Heavyarms pilot's sight was fixed on Heero's pacing body, rigid with anger.

The rapid sound of booted feet on the porch herald the arrival of the awaited pilot only seconds before the front door flew open. Duo burst in, his face flushed, his eyes sparkling, and an enormous smile on his face.

"Man, was that awesome or what? We kicked Oz's ass all the way to hell and back!" he said triumphantly. He then stopped abruptly, searching the serious faces watching him. He backed up a step when he saw Heero's angry glare.

"What?" he asked, looking honestly surprised.

Heero moved quickly and grabbed the front of the braided boy's black shirt with both hands and jerked him forward to hold him inches from his scowling face. "What in hell did you think you were doing?" he growled in demand of an answer.

"Heero?" Quatre cautiously approached the two, hoping to bring some calm to the situation. But he stopped abruptly as the boy he was appealing to turned his narrowed eyes to him with a look of warning, the famous Yuy Death Glare was in full force. The blonde felt a hand on his arm which quickly pulled him back. He looked nervously up into Trowa's face, only to see that friend shake his head, silently telling him not to interfere. 

Duo's face registered his shock and growing apprehension at being so roughly manhandled by his best friend. "Heero, I...." he began, but was abruptly cut off by the angry boy in front of him.

"You deviated from the missions directive. You were to take out the transports, eliminate the immediate mobile suits and retreat. RETREAT!" Heero shouted angrily, his narrowed eyes dark and dangerous.

Duo moved to try and speak, but was shaken roughly by Heero's gripping fists on his shirt and the Japanese boy continued.

"You endangered yourself, your gundam, the rest of the team, and jeopardized the mission by failing to follow your orders." Sparks seems to shoot from the livid boy's eyes. 

The American grabbed hold of Heero's wrists and fought to pull his hands from off his shirt. "I achieved my objective and decided to help out." He shouted back in explanation.

Heero drew the now struggling boy back into close proximity, almost nose to nose. "From now on, you will follow the mission exactly as it is given to you-no deviation, or you will be replaced. Do you understand, Duo. REPLACED!!"

Forcefully bringing both hands up and between Heero's arms, Duo managed to break free from the other's grasp on him. He instantly jumped back to get out of his reach, anger now etched on his own face as well.

"Stop!" he shouted, his body was visibly shaking. "Who are you to reprimand and threaten me?" His eyes shot daggers at his best friend who stood inflexible before him. "I did my job, plus more."

"You were reckless." Wufei cut in, his voice calm and reasoning. "A warrior is methodical in his attack, not reckless."

"Reckless?" Duo shouted in reply, his facial features incredulous. "Did you see how many suits I demolished?"

"Careless," Trowa added quietly. "and irresponsible."

Duo looked in disbelief at the uni-banged boy at the continued criticism. His wide eyes wandered to Quatre, standing to the left of Trowa, whose facial expression revealed his worry. "You were out of control, Duo. Why wouldn't you listen to us?" His voice was gentle in its questioning, but even the soft words stung in their gentle criticism.

The braided boy lifted the heels of his hands to press against his temples and closed his eyes. "I .....I can't take it any more." he stammered, almost in a whisper, his face grimacing as if he were in pain.

"What's the matter with you?" Heero demanded tersely.

Duo opened his eyes and looked up into Heero's, anger building again. "You! That's what's the matter. All of you." He shouted and glared at the four collectively. "I came to this team as an individual, fighting and doing a hell of a job on my own, if I do say so myself. Now I'm......I'm crippled, constrained by your rules and ideals. I....can't...take..it any more. You're over protectiveness of me and Quatre is stifling." Duo could feel an invisible weight lifted off of him as he unburdened himself from what had been bothering him for some time now. Yet even after finally saying it, he found that he was breathing much too quickly, almost hyperventilating. He struggled to calm himself to see where his words, spoken in anger and haste, would take him now.

The air around them was silent as the four took in Duo's outburst. They then watched as he closed his eyes, apparently willing himself to calm down, his rapid breathing slowing just slightly. Nothing would be accomplished it they didn't get control of the situation. Then, the room went perfectly still as, to everyone's shock, Heero spoke a cold solution, his voice flat and emotionless. "Then go, leave us."

Duo looked up sharply as the words sunk in, hurt visible in his eyes. He paused for only a moment to ascertain his friend's seriousness. Who was he kidding? Heero was always serious. With defiance shrouding his hurt, he allowed the look of determination to show in his face and posture, straightening his back he pulled back his shoulders and lifted his chin. Without another word, he turned, his long braid flipping around as if waving farewell as he stomped up the stairs to his shared bedroom.

"No, Duo. Don't!" Quatre pleaded as his friend retreated. Once again, he was held back by Trowa's hand.

"Trowa, we have to stop him. Please." he implored his friend, who merely shook his head in response. The blonde turned next Wufei who stood leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes were distant in thought.

"Wufei?" Quatre's tone of voice appealed earnestly to the Chinese boy.

The Shenlong pilot looked to the pleading blonde and shook his head. "I think Duo needs to find himself again." he replied quietly. "This has actually been bothering him for a while, and I think he needs to do this." He thought back to his time with Duo in the locked-down city weeks before. He recalled his friend's comments that were, at that time, spoken in haste about his frustration, feeling his every move was being controlled by others, even his movements while sleeping.

The agitated blond pilot then moved to stand in front of Heero and searched his eyes. "How can you let him go?" he asked questioningly, knowing of the close bond of friendship that had formed between the two roommates. Duo was Heero's first and closest friend. 

Cobalt eyes never faltered as they bore into Quatre's as he answered him. "He's a liability if he won't follow the outline of a mission and his orders. It could get him or one of us killed."

"But he did follow orders!" Quatre said in exasperation. "He just got carried away, just got caught up in the battle." Quatre could feel his anger building along his frustration at the stoic and stubborn boy in front of him. Seeing that no one would help him stop Duo from leaving, he turned and fled up the stairs to do what he could to stop this mistake like a train wreck from happening before his eyes.

Running to Duo's room, he knocked rapidly on the door. "It's me, Duo. Please let me in." he pleaded with the other through the door. He jumped slightly as the door was abruptly swung open and he was grabbed and pulled swiftly in. With a thud, the door quickly shut behind him and he was immediatedly freed as Duo turned from him and went back to his bed. The familiar black duffel bag was open and he was in the process of angrily shoving his clothing and belongings into it.

"Don't go." Quatre pleaded as he approached the braided boy. "We need you."

The brown haired boy stopped moving for just a moment and slowly shook his head. "I need to go." he said with a note of sadness in his voice.

"I.....I don't understand, Duo. Why?" Quatre's whole demeanor showed his dismay.

The American boy turned, hearing the distress in his friend's voice. Taking the few steps to him, he embraced the other boy tightly. They were both relatively the same height and of slender build, their thin bodies fit firmly together like planks of unyielding wood. Holding the blonde against himself, Duo's face rested his cheek against the soft blond hair that carried the smell of sweet musk. He pillowed his face into it as he began to explain himself.

"Don't feel badly, Quatre. I'm not rejecting you as my friend," he began to explain. "and I'm not angry, not really."

"Then why?" the blonde questioned again, trying to understand.

Duo sighed and reluctantly released the other boy, his hand lingering for just a moment on the soft mass of blonde hair. "I guess...." he began, looking a bit puzzled himself. "I've lost myself." He looked into Quatre's eyes, the color of the Mediterranean, and slowly dropped his hand. "I've been on my own for most of my life, Quatre, and I've had to follow my own instincts, trust my judgement as my life depended on it. I've had total freedom in making choices for myself." He looked up with a curiosity etched on his face, as if he was just figuring things out. "I think I've lost those things. You know, I've never responded well to authority figures, and with the mission orders, rules of what to do and what not to do, where to live, how to live,.... it's all just kinda gotten to me. I think it's also because the others try to shelter us to some extent. Sometimes that feels good. It's comforting to know that someone cares. But, sometimes it becomes.....smothering to me." He reached up and brushed his long bangs to the side of his face and they immediately fell back into place.

Quatre stood listening, trying to understand, analyzing what he had learned. He was well aware that Duo had not been raised by a family. In fact, any family life was nearly non-existent in Duo's past other then his short stay in the orphanage. Before that, he had been a child of the streets, a wild child with no rules or authority figure telling him right from wrong for years. The Arabian inwardly sighed, it was sad to realize that out of the five gundam pilots, only he and Wufei were brought up in a family setting, though maybe not in a traditional sense. In a family, you learned that you had a place within a community, you were a part of something larger. Quatre had grown up with many siblings, and you had to learn to give and take, to share and be tolerant of others and their differences. He had learned the rules and mores that went with a family unit. Maybe because he had been raised in such a family unit, he had more easily accepted his place and role amongst the other pilots, and he could now see that Duo bristled under the same subtle protection and rules this family of pilots lived by. He understood part of his and Duo's roles within the group, that they were essential in keeping a sense of life and happiness when their job of war weighed heavily on all of them. He hadn't realized it at first, but over time the blonde had observed and sensed the others watching over the two of them, protecting them as an essential part of the team. He inwardly appreciated the reason for it and was grateful for the friendships that were quickly becoming to be more like family. Yet as he thrived in a group setting so like his home, Duo, who had not been raised with others watching and guarding his movements as closely, bristled at it and apparently, because it was so foreign to him, began to lack the confidence to do what he use to.... remain independent. 'Was that what this was about?' Quatre asked himself. 'Did Duo need to prove to himself once again that he could work alone and be independent of his friends?' 

As he watched Duo turn his attention back to his duffle bag, he vaguely remembered Wufei commenting aside to him weeks earlier, when Duo was having a particularly bad day, that their friend was struggling with all the constraints put on him. At first he didn't understand what that meant. 'What constraints?' he'd wondered. Now he was beginning to understand what Wufei had hinted at. 

Quatre felt powerless to affect any change in the situation. He knew the team needed Duo, but what about the boy himself, his own needs. If Duo truly needed to go, he would have to let him, and with his blessing. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with sudden inspiration. "I'll go with you, Duo." He announced excitedly. "If you'll just wait, I'll pack."

Duo's eyes were suddenly moist with emotion as he turned back to face his generous friend. He was touched by the gesture friendship, but shook his head. "This isn't your problem, Quatre," He moved to grasp the blonde's shoulders in his hands and gave them an affectionate squeeze. "and thanks for offering. It really means a lot to me. But, I think the others need you to stay here."

With a disappointed sigh, Quatre's face fell, his eyes lowered in disappointment. Maybe Duo had also sensed their importance to the team and why Quatre's continued presence was necessary to the others.

"Hey!" Duo smiled in response and ruffled the flaxen head. "Why so glum? It's not like we'll never see each other again."

"Promise?" Blue eyes searched violet ones.

"Promise." Duo replied, his smile still in tack.

Quatre nodded, accepting Duo's word. "Where will you go?"

"Well," Duo drawled as only Duo could. "I think I'll mosey over to Howard and have that hole taken care of in Deathscythe's shoulder. From there I'll check the orders and let my next mission guide me. Hopefully, I can avoid uppity schools." His face grimaced with distaste at the idea. He'd had enough of those institutions to last a life time.

"How will we stay in touch?" Quatre wondered aloud. He was ever the one to plan ahead.

"Humm....." Duo hummed in thought, his finger tapping his cheek. "How about we use the COM unit in our gundams every Monday night at eight p.m. Sanq time. We can sit in our comfy pilot seats and have a nice catch-up chat."

"Mondays?"

Duo chuckled and shifted his eyebrows in a mischevious manner. "Leaves the weekend open for fun."

Quatre smiled back looking a bit more hopeful. "That could work."

As Duo turned back to finish packing, Quatre tried to stall the inevitable. "Stay for dinner?" he ventured. "Trowa's cooking.", always an enticement.

With his back turned, the pilot of Deathscythe knew the blonde couldn't see his smile falter at the thought of sharing a last meal with his friends. With a cleansing breath, he forced it back into place and turned his head slightly. "No, I better not. But if you could make me a few sandwiches that I could take with me, I'd appreciate it."

Quatre's hand went to his chest. "You're hurt." he said as he felt the others sadness in his heart.

"Can't hide much from you, can I?" Duo said without turning, and busied himself with the task at hand. His feelings were hurt. When he finally erupted and burst out all that had been bothering him over the past few months in reaction to Heero's anger, he spilled out all his frustration without thinking. He had hoped that the others would at least try to understand and work with him to better the situation. He never expected Heero to tell him to leave. That hurt deeply.

"Don't worry about it." he shrugged his shoulders, trying to look nonchalant about the whole situation, but not quite succeeding at keeping the bitterness out of his voice. "I'll deal with it and get over it, like everything else in my wonderful life." He didn't want to turn and look at the expression on Quatre's face. He was afraid he'd see pity. "So, how about those sandwiches?"

Twenty minutes later, Quatre stood at the bottom of the stairs, a grocery bag of sandwiches, fruit, and goodies next to him on a small table. He watched the American, dressed in his pseudo-black priest's outfit, descend the stairs with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder, his jacket and hat in hand. He moved in a more sedate manner than they were accustomed to.

Duo's eyes looked sad and tired in contrast to the forced smile he had fixed on his face. From the corner of his eye, he saw Trowa come into the room from the kitchen. Heero and Wufei were seated in separate chairs in the livingroom, watching him leave.

As he reached the landing, Quatre threw his arms around his shoulders and hugged him fiercely. "Come back to us.......soon." he whispered as he felt Duo's arm wrap around him in return of his affection.

"Bye, Quatre," he whispered and slowly backed away. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Quatre nodded. "Here are the sandwiches I made." He turned to grab hold of the large bag from the table and presented it to him.

Duo's eyes widened at the size of the bag and raised one eyebrow questioningly as he accepted the bag.

"Oh, I added a few extras." Quatre answered with a crooked smile.

"Thanks." The amethyst eyes softened and he gave the other the gift of a true smile of appreciation. He would miss the extra little gestures of friendship that Quatre was always ready to give.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to the front door, but instantly found his arm held by his friend. "Say goodbye to them." he whispered firmly.

Duo lowered his head. "I can't" he whispered back.

"Please. It's important." Quatre implored. "What if something should happen to one of them? Would you ever forgive yourself for leaving without a kind word?"

Knowing Quatre spoke the truth, he allowed himself to be turned around. He looked up through his bangs to see the others, still fixed in their places.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye." he looked back down to the floor, studying a scuff mark on his left black boot. "I left something for each of you on your beds......take care of each other." He turned to leave yet again and made it as far as the door before he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Looking over his shoulder, he was surprised to see that it was Heero this time who had stopped him. Cobalt blue eyes, now lacking their earlier angry sparks, met his questioning ones.

"Think before you act. Have a plan." Heero advised and released Duo's shoulder.

"Don't get all sentimental on me, Heero." Duo's lip curled up to match the sarcasm in his voice.

Quatre, standing at the door, translated Heerospeak. "He means be careful. Be safe."

Duo nodded and stepped out the door. He walked slowly, no need to hurry with no real place to go. 'Why is it that each step hurts?' he wondered. He should be happy to be gaining his freedom again, to be breaking free from all the constraints he felt were suffocating him. Despite his determination not to, he turned around to look behind him, at what he was walking away from. In the distance he could see Quatre standing on the porch, Heero behind him, both of them watching him leave. Behind the large glass window of the front room, he could see Trowa and Wufei looking towards him. Raising his arm, he waved goodbye. Quatre waved back, then turned and rushed back inside the front door of the safehouse. With a deep sigh, Duo turned and, as the evening faded into the gloaming, forced himself with heavy footsteps forward down the wooded path towards his gundam.

  
  


TBC

  
  



	2. part 2

Breaking Free

By: Dyna Dee

Part 2

warnings: a bit sappy

The three silent pilots listened to Quatre's footsteps running up the stairs to his room and slammed the door behind him as they watched Duo fade into the distance.

"Well, that's that." Trowa said quietly, then turned and walked back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

Heero waited until the figure in black disappeared from view, then walked back into the house and exchanged a thoughtful and worried look with Wufei. He then silently turned and walked slowly up the stairs to his room, now void of any trace of his roommate. 

Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. Duo's chatter and spark were missed, but not remarked on.

Quatre reluctantly joined the other three, persuaded by Trowa to come downstairs and eat. He sat woodenly in his chair, head bowed as Trowa filled his plate. He pushed his food around on his plate, eating several small bites, not noticing the texture or flavor. Finally pushing his plate away from in front of him, he looked up accusingly to the other three at the table.

"You guys could have stopped him from going." He quietly accused them. "Not a one of you asked him to stay." he said sadly.

"It was his choice." Heero replied without looking up from his half-eaten plate of food.

Quatre's head snapped up, his eyes sparked with anger, his face white and drawn. "If I remember right, you told him to go." his voice snapped. "Did you guys ever think of talking it out? Finding out what was upsetting him and how to deal with it? No!" he answered the question himself, his voice filled with uncharacteristic sarcasm. "You reinforced his feelings of being controlled by saying do it my way or leave, or even worse, be replaced!"

The Arabian stood abruptly. "I should have gone with him, but he wouldn't let me." He said sullenly then turned to leave when Trowa stayed him by taking a firm hold of his forearm.

"Let me go, Trowa." he spoke sharply, his voice full of emotion.

"Quatre, none of us are happy that he's gone, " the Heavyarms's pilot spoke softly, "but we all realize his recklessness today stems from his frustration. He's dangerous to the team until he can figure this out."

Wufei put his fork down and looked at the agitated boy. "You're angry with us because we didn't keep him here. But how long would it have taken him to decide we were still trying to control or confine him again by that act?" He shook his head. "He needed to do this and we needed to let him go. Hopefully, he'll find his way back to us."

Quatre sat down, feeling defeated and wrung out from the day's events. He looked resigned. Bringing his left hand up to the table, he opened it to reveal a seahorse. "This is the gift he left me." he said quietly as he let the memories of their trip to the aquarium come to mind. "I bought this for him the day we went to the aquarium. Remember how enthralled he was with the sea dragon? Since we couldn't find anything in the gift shop like it, he said this would serve as a reminder as it vaguely resembled the delicate creature he watched and remembers even now with awe." A wistful smile crossed his face as he remembered the day and incident.

"He left me packets of bubble bath." Trowa volunteered, his green eyes a bit dazed with a memory. "I think he wants me to remember the fun we had together as we all climbed into that Jacuzzi bathtub in our boxers. We almost drowned in bubbles when he turned the jets on." A smile grew on his face as he remembered all of them, as well as the entire bathroom floor, covered in seemingly millions of bubbles. Even getting out and haphazardly slip-sliding and falling across the slippery bathroom floor had kept them laughing for hours.

"What did he leave you, Wufei?" Quatre asked, curious.

The Shenlong pilot looked a bit embarrassed as he replied. "A large package of Peanut M&M's." He blushed, "It's a personal joke between us." Then his mouth closed, signaling that was all he was going to say in way of an explanation.

"Heero?" Quatre asked.

"A book." he answered, no explanation followed. 

Quatre stared at the perfect soldier whose emotions and sentiments were firmly clamped down. He felt his anger returning. "Will you even miss him, Heero?" he asked. "Will you miss his jokes or his laughter and teasing? How about his smile and mischievousness? What about his music, or our dancing in the kitchen while doing dishes, or the corny movies? Will you miss him at all?" His voice had risen in volume along with his anger and frustration as he spoke when seeing no visible reaction from the Japanese pilot at his words. "You're probably glad he's gone, aren't you? Now you can have absolutely no distractions from your precious laptop and missions." he said in disgust. 

During his little rant, a part of the Arabian's brain registered how out of character he had been today, so angry and upset. He felt the pounding in his head increase and knew he was beginning to pay for all the emotions he'd felt this disturbing day, his and everyone else's. Quatre's eyes opened wide when Heero stood abruptly, knocking his chair back to fall and crash against the floor. He turned his troubled dark blue eyes to stare down at the angry blonde.

"Yes!" he growled sternly as if it physically hurt to admit his feelings out loud. He then turned and stepped over the legs of the chair. "I will miss him." he said in a barely audible voice as he walked out of the kitchen.

The three remaining at the table slowly cleared the half-filled plates from on top of the table and began to wash up. They did so in near silence, each of their minds going over the unpleasant day.

Wufei made his way upstairs. The silence was unnerving and somehow felt unnatural. He stopped in front of Heero's room and paused for just a moment. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door. No answer. Cautiously turning the nob, he peeked his head around the corner of the door, not wanting to intrude or risking Heero shooting him, but he was concerned. He saw the Japanese boy sitting cross legged on the double bed, his head bowed over a book with faded gold edges on well worn, thin pages, and a black edge around the inside cover.

"You okay, Heero?" He asked.

The other boy nodded without raising his head.

"Is that his gift to you?" he walked cautiously towards the bed, curious about the book. Heero closed the cover as he approached so he could see the black cover and the gold printing on it..

"A Bible? Why would he leave you a Bible?" Wufei asked, perplexed as Duo was not overly religious.

Heero looked up and answered. "He was told the stories from this book at the orphanage as a child." he explained quietly. "He was reminded of them when he heard them again in the shelters during the hurricane and tornado while in the U.S. He said they brought him a different perspective on his life, on the war, and battles we fight. Sometimes at night, he'll tell me a story and then who the people reminded him of and why." 

"May I?" Wufei held out his hand to see the book. Heero handed it to him. He leafed through the beginning pages and came upon a hand written message.

"He inscribed it for you." Wufei voiced his discovery. "Did you see it?"

Heero looked up, a hint of surprise on his face. "No, read it to me?"

Wufei wondered if the personal message should be read by Hero alone, but he held up the book and read as directed.

Heero,

You are Able, Isaac, Joseph, Moses, David and more. 

You are my hero, and always my friend.

Duo.

Wufei looked up to see if Heero was affected by the words of the neatly written message. He noted that his friend's mouth was compressed into a line, and his eyes were curiously bright as he reached for the book and brought it back to his lap to study the inscription.

"I'm not familiar with those all of those names or stories." Wufei said. "But I'm curious. Will you tell me about them, and why they're important to Duo?"

Heero took a deep breath and answered quietly, not looking up from the book. "I think Duo would like me to, but another day, alright?"

"Sure." Wufei reached out to the boy on the bed to give his shoulder an understanding touch before he turned and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

TBC


	3. part 3

Breaking Free

By: Dyna Dee

Part 3 

Five days after Duo's departure, Quatre sat in his gundam at the appointed hour and received the news that Duo had, indeed, made it to Howard's floating repair barge. The braided boy reported that Deathscythe was repaired and ready to go. They were too far away from each other to have visual contact, so they had to be satisfied by typing the messages into their computers, reporting to each other that all was well. Duo had received new orders and would contact him next week at the same time to check in.

Their contact was brief and not too satisfying for either, but it was all they could do in order to keep from being detected by any enemy surveillance.

The following week the two met again, visually this time, both faces lighting up as they viewed each other.

"04, how's it going?" Duo asked exuberantly, careful to keep to the number code as to keep their identities from any possible intercept of their message.

The blonde boy's smile radiated his happiness in seeing his friend again. "Fine, 02. How are you, and where are you?" he asked.

"Hey, I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Duo smiled with confidence. "I'm not sure how secure the line is, so I can't disclose where I am exactly, just close enough to have visual." Which meant he was in Europe. "I'm assigned to the last place I ever wanted to be in again, but at least this one is public." Which cryptically meant he was in a school setting, but a public school this time.

"How about you guys? Anything exciting happen?" he asked

Quatre shrugged. "Not much, just the typical hit and run jobs. We've moved to a new safehouse though."

"Oh." Duo's face fell slightly, but then recovered. "How is everyone?"

"Fine, but quiet." the blonde answered.

Duo's crooked smile appeared. "Yeah, sorry about that, leaving you with the verbally challenged. But if you short-sheet 05's bed, or put powder sugar in 03's sheets, you'll get someone talking." he chuckled.

Quatre smiled. "I'll try it. But, what about 01?"

"You gotta be careful with him." Duo warned and he raised an eyebrow in thought. "You could try putting starch in his laundry because short sheeting drives him crazy and he'll just make you fix it. Don't be surprised if all he voices is a curt promise to kill you."

Both boys laughed and talked lightly for the next ten minutes. Quatre wiped the tears from his eyes, brought on by long bouts of laughter. "Ah.., 02. I miss you. Will you come home soon?"

The Deathscythe pilot's heart ached at the word. "Home?" He asked the other. "I can't remember ever having a home other than the orphanage, and look what happened to it." he continued as his humor dissipated.

Studying his friend and seeing the change in his emotions, the Arabian wanted to somehow ease the sorrows Duo always tried to hide from them. "There's an old saying that home is where the heart is." He smiles warmly over the COM screen. "I hope you feel as strongly for us as we do about you." He could tell the other's mind was struggling with the concept. "We are your home." Quatre said softly but with conviction. "No matter where you go, or what you do, we will always be here for you. That's a home."

The braided boy blinked as he let Quatre's words sink in. He knew his friend spoke truthfully and he suddenly felt even more bereft of the companionship and camaraderie he had shared with the other pilots. He knew he needed them and wanted to return, but he still hadn't worked out in his mind how to deal with the feelings of being constrained by the rules and the others. He knew he needed to figure it out soon, as he was feeling the old ache of loneliness, and the desperate hollowness that being alone too long always brought, and this time it was becoming overwhelming. Yes, he needed the others, and realized he most likely needed them more than they needed him. He recognized then, with a jolt of surprise, that he was feeling homesick, a feeling he would never before would have believed possible.

"Thanks, Quatre." he smiled at the blonde on the screen. "I still haven't figured things out yet, but I'll work on it. But, I'm not so sure the guys will want me back when I do."

Quatre's eyes widened with indignation. "How can you think that? No one forced you to go, that was your decision and we, individually, decided to support your decision.

"Even 01?" Duo asked hesitantly.

"Of course." Quatre smiled, his anger at the Wing pilot was long gone. "He may not know how to show or tell you, but I know you're his closest friend and that he misses you."

"He told you that?" Duo looked dubious.

"Of course not." Quatre answered with a soft snort and a roll of his eyes. Heero seldom discussed his feelings openly. He looked back into the screen at Duo visage, then put his hand on his heart. "But, I can feel it." he said. "He's sad and lonely." 

A few moments of silence passed before Quatre began again. "We were all touched by your gifts. Thank you, Duo. They're very thoughtful and evoked wonderful memories."

Duo smiled again, but not so brightly. "I'm glad. I want everyone to remember something pleasant about me, not just the negative.

"By the way," Quatre lifted a questioning eyebrow. "What's the significance of the M&Ms?"

*******

Several days later, Duo found himself enrolled in a public school in Switzerland. Professor G had done all the paper work for him and Duo was entering the school as a foreign exchange student from California. His mission was to befriend the son of an particular OZ General, who was an information specialist, with the purpose of gaining access to the family's home and computer, thereby obtaining possible correspondence and information relating to OZ's plans for the colonies, attacks on the Alliance's broken factions, as well as their collected information on the gundams. It seems the General was a devoted family man and often worked at home, making him an easier target than those who worked strictly at a base or OZ headquarters.

Having rented a small studio apartment, Duo hired an Arabic couple to go to school with him as his "host family". He had counted on the fact that no one in the Office of Admissions could speak Arabic, and posed as a translator, telling the couple in his rough and limited Arabic to smile and sign the dotted line in order to get their promised fee.

It took him several days to locate the General's son. He was not exactly what the Deathscythe pilot had pictured in his mind as a high ranking military official's offspring. Most of the upper-crust military kids he'd met at the prep schools had been pompous, arrogant, and tended to be bullies--he thoroughly disliked them. But when he finally located the boy, Pierre Lafaiete, he was struck by how ordinary the boy seemed. The light brown haired boy looked like an average teenager, taller than Duo, but not by much, with average looks and build. His hair was cut short and flattened on top, giving his round face a little bit of relief and variation.

The boy wore small round glasses, and his clothes were similar to Duo's own; jeans and a tee-shirt, but he wore a blue plaid button-down shirt over it, something the braided boy would never get caught dead in. All in all, though, he looked like an average kid, a bit on the quiet side, with a tendency to be a loner.

Duo's eyes brightened. 'This will be easy' he thought. 'I can make friends with anyone, and this kid looks like he needs one. And quiet types, well, they've always been a good challenge to me.' His mind flashed a picture of three of his friends who had a tendency to be the same quiet loners as this Pierre kid appeared to be.

Discretely following the General's son for a few days, he noted his few friends, shyness, and a distracted look on his face, his mind was obviously elsewhere.

Taking advantage of that distraction one morning, Duo managed to move quickly forward and step out in front of the boy, easily allowing himself to be knocked down when their bodies collided. 

"Hey!" Duo looked up from the ground at the stunned boy above him. "Pick on someone your own size." he complained lightly in English.

"I'm sorry." Pierre gasped in English, accented with a heavy French accent, his fair and liberally freckled cheeks blushing. He scrambled to set his books on his left hip and offered the boy on the ground his right hand. 

As the American stood, the French boy's eyes blinked in surprise. He had never seen any one with eyes quite like this stranger. Not only were they an unusual color, but there was such depth to them, more than he had ever seen on any kid he'd ever known.

"Hi!" Duo shook the hand that helped him up. "Dougal Maxum."

Pierre nodded his head. "Pierre." His voice cracked a bit, so he tried again. "Pierre Lafaiete." he finished, still shaking hands. He realized the other boy's hand was strong, and rough with callouses. Suddenly, by mutual, silent agreement, they both released their clasp.

"Nice to meet you, Pierre." Duo said smiling warmly. "But next time, let's skip the collision and just say hello, okay?"

Pierre smiled back. "You're an American?"

"Yeah, from a small town in California." Duo replied. "You're French," he replied. "And your English is very good."

"Ah, I still speak with ze heavy French accent." Pierre shrugged and gave a small smile. He realized the American's good humor was rather contagious.

"Yeah, accents are hard to lose." The American sympathized with a carefree shrug. "You know," he continued. "I'm new here and haven't met many people. Do you think I could eat lunch with you today?"

Pierre had to fight to keep his mouth from dropping open, unable to believe what was happening. Here in front of him was probably the best looking guy he'd ever seen, and he would, most likely, become very popular in school and, unbelievably, he was asking him to eat lunch with him. His eyebrows drew together slightly as he wondered to himself why? He wasn't popular, he had nothing to offer but friendship.

Duo saw the facial expression and sensed the pause. "Hey! Its no big deal if you don't want to. I just don't like to eat in the cafeteria alone."

"Why me?" Pierre asked, curiosity going full blast.

Duo looked up through his bangs. "We'll, I guess I'd have to say that it's because I won't get a neck ache looking up at you."

Pierre smiled in return. He was just coming to terms with the fact that he would never be tall and this boy before him was even a bit shorter and probably shared the same insecurities about his lack of height. Although, after speaking with him, he just couldn't imagine this American having any insecurities at all. He nodded, adjusting his glasses again. "Alright. I'll meet you in front of the library and we'll go to the cafeteria together."

"Great!" the new boy smiled brightly. "See ya then." He turned and waved as he proceeded down the corridor in the opposite direction. It was then that Pierre got his first glimpse of the long braid gently swaying against the slender back as Dougal walked away. 

"Americans!" he smiled at the uniqueness of the new boy. This could prove to be an interesting day indeed.

TBC


	4. part 4

Author's note: Okay, for those of you who are wondering about the gifts, they are parts of previous stories. The bubble bath and seahorse are from A Little Time Off, the Bible and stories are from The Storms of Life, and the M&Ms are from Disguise the Limit.

Breaking Free

By: Dyna Dee

Part 4

"Do all Americans talk this much?" Pierre laughed at his new friend as they finished lunch. They had spent much of the lunch hour talking in both French and English.

Dougal shrugged. "Lets just say I have a tendency to verbally overcompensate as my friends are usually the quiet type." He smiled and joked. "Guess I choose quiet friends on purpose so I can dominate the conversation." 

Pierre didn't think that was the only thing Dougal dominated. It was quite obvious that he drew most of the attention of the student population in the cafeteria. During the lunch period, the quiet, unassuming boy noticed the other students' various reactions to the braided American sitting across from him at the lunch table. Their facial expressions ranged from surprise to amusing, curiosity, awe, and lust as they openly admired and gawked at the handsome boy across from him. What seemed curiously refreshing to Pierre was that Dougal seemed either totally unaware or completely unaffected by all the attention he drew to himself without any effort on his part.

"Are you aware of the affect you have on other people?" he asked curiously.

Dougal looked up in surprise and took a quick glance around the room. "You mean other than irritating the crap out of them?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

"I mean how they stop and stare at you?"

Dougal's eyes shifted again to the area around him, his eyes registering that he wasn't pleased at all about the unsolicited attention he was getting. He then turned back to Pierre to answer his question. "It's just that I'm new." he answered dismissing the rest of the room. "I'm sure they're just trying to figure out if I'm the norm or an atypical American." Then the blue/violet eyes sparkled with amusement. "Just wait, Pierre," he said quietly and he leaned forward as if to share a secret with him. "I'll have half of them ticked off at me within the first month. I have a way of rubbing people the wrong way." he smiled, but somehow the French boy detected a touch of sadness in his eyes.

Pierre found himself intrigued with this boy who was a contradiction in many ways. Life in Switzerland had certainly become more interesting.

After several days of sharing lunch together, the French boy became even more aware of the contradictions in his new friend. He could sense in this American a great loneliness, even though he was surrounded by many of the students vying for his attention. He was friendly and outgoing, but Pierre sensed a secretiveness. Dougal seemed lighthearted and carefree, but the French boy felt an inner depth and a strength of purpose within the slight boy.

With his mother's permission, he invited Dougal home for dinner on Thursday night, which the American readily accepted with a smile and a word of thanks.

Dougal walked home from school with him that day, and Pierre explained his families living arrangements. Their home was located just outside Paris. Every Sunday night he and his mother left Paris to fly to Geneva to spend the week at their second home, so Pierre could attend school here. Then, every Friday evening, they flew back to spend the weekend with his father at their home near his work.

"Why not attend school in Paris?" Dougal asked.

"My father wanted me to grow up away from the war. He's an officer in the military, you know."

"No, I didn't" Duo cringed internally at the lie. "Which military?"

"OZ." Pierre said quietly and an uncomfortable silence followed.

"It must be difficult for your father to have you and your mother gone all week." The American diverted their conversation to back to the other more comfortable topic.

The freckled-faced boy shrugged. "He's at the base a lot. But on the weekends we get to be a family." Pierre smiled. He knew a lot of people were angry at OZ for the violence and destruction in eliminating the Alliance, and their constant pursuit of the warring gundams was at times relentless and destructive to cities and civilians. He was glad the new his father was with OZ didn't seem to affect his new friend.

"Contrary to the stereo type," he continued. "my father is kind. He let me choose the school I preferred, regardless of the fact that other military officers send their sons to prestigious academies. I don't intend to study war, but life, and making it better. My father respects that."

He noticed Dougal's look of surprise, which turned to admiration. "The world needs more people like you, Pierre....determined on a course away from war. I know someone like that, a girl. She'll be a force to reckon with one day."

Pierre kicked a stray stone on the sidewalk back into a nearby shrub lining the walkway. "Do you have many friends, Dougal?" he asked.

The American smiled wistfully. "They say you can never have to many friends." he looked at Pierre as they stopped in front of a three story stone building. "I would say I have many acquaintances and a few friends I can trust with my life." he answered.

Pierre nodded. He felt the same about the people he had encountered in his life. His life had been touched with brief, fleeting friendships. The only lasting one had been the friendship of his parents and Jacques, his boyhood friend in Paris.

Turning, Pierre led his guest up the stairs and through the dark blue painted door leading into his house. After a quick introduction to Pierre's mother, they played video games for a while, until Dougal mastered them all; listened to music, for which the American had unusual tastes; and worked on their homework before being called down to dinner.

"Tell me of your family in California." Mrs. Lafaiete requested with a warm smile, the French language rolling smoothly off her tongue..

Dougal looked hesitant for a moment. "Well,....hum...I'm an orphan." he stated quietly.

Both Pierre and his mother looked up in shock which quickly turned to compassion. "I'm sorry, dear." she said sincerely. 

Dougal seemed embarrassed. "No need to be. My parents died before I could remember, so this is just life as I know it." he explained with a shrug. "I was raised in a Catholic orphanage by kind people, so there's no need for any pity."

'Pity?' Pierre thought. He felt sorry for Dougal, but was fairly certain that he could never pity a boy with such strength.

"How did you come to school in Geneva?" Mrs. Lafaiete asked.

The American smiled as he looked at the woman who was similar in appearance and manners to her son. She was petite, with her shoulder length wavy hair surrounding her round face, and a pair of fashionable glasses lit softly on the bridge of her nose. She was dressed casually, but well. And though she seemed to be a lady use to being in the higher social circles, there was an aura of kindness and sweetness about her not usually associated with people of that ilk.

"Foreign Exchange Student programs are available to all, and a general fund was set aside for my education, plus private donations from the parishioners."

"Well," Pierre's mother smiled sweetly. "I hope you will consider our home your home away from home while you are in Geneva." she said graciously.

The braided boy smiled broadly at the pleasure he felt from such an invitation and thanked her.

Several hours later, Pierre closed the front door after his guest and returned to the living room where his mother was reading a book. "So mama, what do you think of my new friend?" he asked as he sat in a chair adjacent to hers.

His mother put down her book and smiled warmly. "He is everything you described, dear. I liked him very much."

"I'm glad." Pierre smiled back. "I've never met anyone like him before."

"Well, you have always been very selective with your friendships." she reminded him.

Pierre nodded at his mother's observation. "Its odd, but he's the one who befriended me, and I can't help buy wonder why?"

"Why not?" his mother exclaimed, shocked at the seeming lack of self worth his question exposed. "You are a wonderful boy, and smart, too. Anyone would be privileged to call you a friend."

"You are such a mother." the boy looked embarrassed.

"Well, your father is in total agreement with me on this." she beamed.

Pierre's smile slipped as his thoughts turned to the evenings conversation. "I didn't know he was an orphan." he said with a touch of sadness in his voice. "I feel badly that he has never known a wonderful mother or father. It makes me feel guilty that I have you and father."

"In this time of war," his mother began softly. "there will be many more orphans. It is sad, but you must not feel guilty, but reach out and share your warmth with people who haven't had your privileges."

"Do you think I could invite Dougal home for a weekend?" he asked after thinking about what his mother had just said.

His mother nodded. "Next week is a three-day weekend, that would give you time to show him Paris." she replied, her eyes sparkling at the smile her answer brought to her son.

Pierre stood and moved to kiss his mother's cheek. "Thank you, mama." he whispered, then retired to his room for the night.

********

"Thanks for the invitation." Dougal responded to Pierre's invitation the next day. "Can I let you know?"

"Sure," Pierre shrugged easily. "Is there a problem?"

"Well, I usually call the orphanage every Monday night at eight o'clock. It's a set time so I can talk to my friends."

"Maybe we could catch the early flight home." Pierre suggested

"Or," Dougal put his finger up to his face and tapped it, thinking. "Maybe I could journey back myself so you don't have to cut short your visit with your dad."

Pierre nodded in consideration of the other boy's suggestion. "We should also get written permission from your guardians that you can cross the borders with us."

The American agreed. "I'll get it. Sounds like fun. If I can get back in time to make my call, I'd be happy to accept your invitation." A large smile gave credence to his words.

"Great!" Pierre beamed brightly. "I'll tell my parents." The two turned to walk towards their next class. "What will you do this weekend?" he asked aside to his friend.

Dougal shrugged and smiled at him. "Oh, I'll be fine. I can always find something to amuse myself. Don't worry about me." he reassured him.

By mid-Saturday afternoon, Duo realized he was bored and lonely. His mission target had surprised him by being warm and open, and he found himself with real feelings of friendship for the other boy. He supposed that, in some way, he had opened himself to Pierre to fill the emptiness he felt while away from the other pilots. Now with Pierre out of town, his feelings of loneliness seeped in again.

During their lunch hour and after school chats, Duo had spoken vaguely about his friends to Pierre. He told the French boy that they were at the orphanage and that several of them were unhappy with him about something he had done before leaving. He confided in Pierre about feeling controlled and his frustration about it.

Pierre proved to be a good listener. Even though he had referred to his friends by their nationality, and not by name, Pierre soon gained an understanding of his complicated relationship with these unseen boys. Talking about them had caused Duo to miss them more. He thought he would relish his new freedom, but he missed their companionship. 'Maybe it's a trade off.' he thought. 'The price of friendship and companionship is not a loss of self, but a compromise of giving and taking, sacrificing and receiving.' And as he made his way into bed at night, he particularly missed Heero's presence and their nightly exchange of stories and thoughts on the day or the war. He thought he would love having a bed and a room all to himself, but he had gotten use to Heero's arm holding him firmly in place, the security that brought him, of knowing someone was guarding his sleep. He missed his roommate's formidable presence, his reassurance and promise that he would always guard his back. Then, with a bit of guilt, Duo saw that his actions in the last battle had made it impossible for Heero to carry out his promise. He had deviated from the mission in a frenzy of adrenaline and battle lust. Even now, he cringed as he remembered how he had ignored his friends' pleas for him to withdraw as they took hits from the enemy to protect him as he threw himself into the battle recklessly. He knew he would never forgive himself if he were to cause any of them to be hurt because of his carelessness. 'Is my need to prove to myself that I can act independently more important than their well being?' he asked himself. He put his head in his hands. He had been wrong, and when he returned to them, he needed to apologize.

He longed for Monday, and then realized how odd that was. He had always enjoyed the freedom of the weekend and dreaded the first day of the week, especially when attending school. But Monday meant Pierre would return, and he would talk to Quatre and see how everyone was. He sighed, only 35 hours to go.

TBC


	5. part 5

Breaking Free

By: Dyna Dee

Part 5

Excitement glowed on Pierre's face when he greeted him between classes on Monday morning. "Dougal, guess what? You'll never guess!" he exclaimed.

The braided boy smiled in return, happy to see his new friend. "Then tell me." he laughed.

"Father said that, in honor of the holiday and your visit, he's going to take us to Monte Carlo for the weekend. We'll take a private jet from here after school on Friday and return Monday at five o'clock, in time for your phone call. Is that all right with you?" He asked almost breathless. "Don't worry about any cost, my dad is covering it."

Duo continued to hold his smile though his heart and hopes sunk a bit. He had hoped to get the information the mission required at Pierre's house that weekend, thus being able to return to the others. "That'll be great." he replied plastering on his fake smile. "I've never been to Monte Carlo."

"It's a wonderful place!" Pierre said happily, "I'll tell you all about it at lunch." and with a quick wave they parted.

That evening found Duo sitting in Deathscythe for a full hour, waiting impatiently and anxiously for the appointed time. On the way home from school that day, he'd heard a news vendor on the street shout out the latest headline new of the afternoon edition of the newspaper. The main headline announced an attack by the Gundams on a base near Moscow. He bought the paper and sat on the nearest street bench to anxiously read it. Unofficial sources stated that two gundams were spotted by civilian bystanders, attacking the base. They were met with heavy opposition and, according to those witnesses, the gundams were apparently damaged after destroying a building that had been heavily guarded by OZ forces. The gundam known as 01 switched into flight mode and scooped up the gundam 04. They escaped while destroying any pursuers. The article went on to report the list of damages to the base including the number of Leos and men lost in the battle.

Duo had rushed to the place he had hidden Deathscythe, anxious to hear if Heero and Quatre were safe.

At 8:00 p.m. Sanq time, he punched the code for Sandrock and waited. Five minutes dragged by and he began to chew on the cuticle of his index finger nervously. "Come on Quatre." he urged the blank screen to come to life. His communicator beeped as an incoming call came in. Flipping the switch, he blinked, startled, as his eyes raised to COM screen and he found himself looking at Trowa.

"Trowa!" he exclaimed with a sense of fear growing in him, and forgetting to use his code number instead of his name. He found himself unable to speak, fearful of what news he was about to receive.

The long banged, green eyed boy was obviously relieved to see the American, then observed the look of fear on his face. "You've heard about the attack on Moscow?" he asked.

Duo nodded his answer, his eyes wide with apprehension.

"They'll be fine." he reported. "Both 01 and 04 suffered some injuries, not too major, but 04 will be out of action for a week or two. He asked me to contact you to allay any worries you might have."

"Were you there?" Duo managed in a strained voice.

Trowa shook his head. "No, it was just those two. O5 is on a separate mission, and I just returned in time to give them both first aid.

"01?"

"A slight concussion, stitches to a cut on his upper arm from flying debris, and a broken rib. 04 was hit repeatedly, he had a dislocated shoulder, two bruised ribs, numerous cuts and bruises, and one broken finger."

"I'm sorry." Duo looked despondent. "I should have been there."

"Listen, my friend," Trowa's voice called out to him calmly but firmly. "01 and 04 are competent warriors. In all likelihood, you would not have been given the same assignment. Don't berate yourself or take on unjustified, or undeserved guilt."

Duo nodded but remained silent, his eyes cast downward. 

After several moments, Trowa began to talk again. "How are you?" he asked as his green eyes searched the monitor in front of him to ascertain for himself as to Duo's well being.

"I'm okay." he replied quietly.

"How's school?"

Duo shrugged. "Fine. School is school." he raised his eyes up to look into Trowa's concerned green ones and smiled slightly. "I've made a new friend." he said, hoping the other pilot wouldn't break the communication yet.

"That's not surprising." Trowa remarked thinking of how people were always drawn to the appealing boy with the large blue/violet eyes.

"No, I mean a real friend.....like you guys." Suddenly a more serious look crossed his face.

"There's a problem." Trowa observed the change.

"The problem is, he's the mark. I needed to befriend him to get to his father's personal computer and download the files. Turns out, he's a really nice guy with a wonderful mom. I haven't met the dad, but he sounds...nice."

"You can't let your missions get personal, Duo." Trowa warned gently. "If you do, its hard to do what you must. Someone always gets hurt."

"I know." Duo answered. "But when I see this kid's home life, I find myself envying him. I wonder how different a person I might be, how much better and nicer I'd be if I'd grown up with two loving parents. I don't want to hurt them, but I know it'll hurt Pierre when he discovers what I've done after I'm gone. Then he'll hate me and believe me to be a horrible person that he trusted."

"Duo," Trowa spoke gently with a warm smile on his face. "You are a wonderful person, even without having the benefit of these phenomenal parents that your friend has had."

"Yeah right." Duo snorted derisively. "I'm a terrorist, a killer, the God of Death. I'm a great fricken kid." he answered snidely.

"You must be if this other great kid wants to be your friend."

Duo's face softened at Trowa's rationalization. "Thanks. You're a good friend, too." He said sincerely then added. "I miss you guys."

"Likewise." Trowa smiled in return.

"Tell the others hi for me and that I hope they're better soon. Okay?"

"Will do."

"Same time next week?" Duo looked hopefully at the other boy on the COM screen.

"Yes." Trowa agreed. "One of us will contact you, same time and day. Be careful, alright?"

Duo felt better as he climbed out of his gundam and secured the tarp that covered it, and locked the barn he had rented on the vacated farm, miles from the city. He would walk to the main road and hitchhike back to Geneva.

Friday afternoon came quickly. The two boys and Mrs. Lafaiete boarded a private jet and in no time, found themselves in Monte Carlo, Monaco. They were greeted by Pierre's father. He was a slender man, not quite six feet tall, with brown hair and small brown eyes which were nothing notable except for the kindness that radiated from them. He wore blue dress slacks and a white polo shirt.

"Papa!" Pierre exclaimed on exiting the plane by the portable stairs and grinning at the man standing below them on the tarmac. His mother and Dougal exited behind him. After the family greetings, Pierre motioned to Dougal. "Father, let me introduce you to my American friend, Dougal Maxum. Dougal" he turned to his braided friend. "My father, Colonel Marius Lafaiete."

The Colonel held out his hand to the boy. "Pleased to meet you." he smiled warmly as his eyes swept over the American.

"Likewise." Dougal answered with his most charming smile. "Thank you for inviting me."

Colonel Lafaiete directed the small group through customs and then to a car waiting outside the airport.

"Whose jet and car are we using, papa?" Pierre asked.

"Colonel Zechs Marquis was kind enough to leave them at my disposal." his father answered.

Duo stiffened at the sound of the name of the Lightening Count, a formidable enemy. His movement did not go unnoticed.

"Are you alright, Dougal." the Colonel asked and the boy looked up, startled that he had been caught having a reaction to the name. "I'm fine." He answered. "Flying doesn't always agree with me." he said in way of an explanation. Inwardly he cringed again. 'Oops, another lie.' he thought.

"I see." Pierre's father 's eyes closed a little as if he was trying to recall something. He then turned to Pierre, though addressing both boys. "There will be time for you two to walk through the city or the beach before dinner if you like. Dinner is at eight, so be dressed and ready by seven forty, alright?"

"We'll be ready, papa." Pierre assured him.

Duo somehow made it through dinner, Pierre's father had asked many questions in regards to his home and area where he supposedly lived. Since he had been to California several times on missions, he had researched and studied a specific region and its geography and demographics to answer such questions. He could make up the orphanage, he just patterned it after the Maxwell Orphanage. The questions got personal, even as to why he grew his hair so long and how unusual it was to have such a beautiful, thick and long braid.

There was something in the conversation that felt like an interrogation. Was it because Pierre's father's job was that of a military man, or was he being paranoid. Was there something behind all the questions? He didn't know, but he was happy when at last the meal ended and he and Pierre made it to their room for the night.

Waking early, Dougal convinced Pierre to an early morning outing, hoping to avoid Pierre's overly curious father. They stopped at a café and had hot chocolate, made with heated cream and a thick chocolate liquid, with baguettes with marmalade. They hiked the steps up to the Palace of the King of Monaco and looked out over the harbor filled with luxurious yachts. 

The two boys talked and laughed comfortably with each other as they made their way down to the beach. Walking along the edge of the water, their shoes in hand and the cuffs of their pants rolled up, they lapsed into companionable silence for a short while.

"Can I ask you a question?" Pierre asked cautiously.

"You mean you thought of one your Dad didn't ask last night?" Dougal replied with light sarcasm.

"Actually, I did." the French boy smiled.

"Okay, shoot." Duo replied.

"Why do you...no, um..." he paused as if to restate his original thought. "Why did you choose me for your friend. I mean, I'm not popular, kind of a nerd and a loner. Yet you started this friendship. Why?"

Managing to keep his stride slow and easy, Duo thought about how he should answer.

"I'm not sure, but I think that when I first looked up at you, from the floor," he reminded the other with a sardonic emphasis to the incident. "I guess I saw just what you explained. I've known popular kids and I can't say I think much about them. And being a nerd just means your intelligent and most nerds have creative ways of having fun. As for the loner, well, I've been a loner most of my life. My friends are loners, but together were unstoppable." He allowed himself to smile in recollection of what he and the other pilots working together managed to accomplish. "Plus," he continued looking up at the freckled boy. "I realized instantly that you're not phoney or pretentious, just a normal guy, and I admire of that."

"Really?"

Duo nodded.

"What is it about you that makes it so easy to like you. I think almost everyone at school does, well, maybe not some of the teachers you've managed to get riled." Pierre chuckled.

"What can I say," Dougal flung his hands out and shrugged. "it's a gift."

Pierre smiled back and the braided boy looked forward, his eyes lighting on something in the distance. "Let's run. Race you to that large rock."

Pierre nodded. "Go!" he shouted and both boys splashed through the water as they raced to the designated goal.

They returned to the hotel for lunch with Pierre's parents. As the day was sunny and warm, they ate at a sidewalk café facing the water front.

"Would you like to go to the museum with us?" Mrs. Lafaiete asked.

Pierre scrunched up his face. "Do we have to?" he asked in a tone close to a whine.

His father laughed with good humor. "Of course not. How about the two of you attend the cinema while we tour the museum."

At Pierre's questioning look, Dougal nodded his agreement. His father pulled out several bills from his wallet and the boys were off for an afternoon of freedom with a promise to return by five thirty to dress for a dinner show.

Late that night the two boys lay in their beds.

"So what's on the agenda for tomorrow?" Dougal asked.

"My dad has to work in the morning, but after that, we're to go on a yacht for the afternoon."

"Work, how can he work from here?" Duo asked, his mind turning back to his mission objective.

"He always takes his laptop with him." Pierre replied. "My mom hates it when he does, but we know his job's very important."

Duo mind began to race. Maybe he could get the information he needed this weekend after all. He was surprised to find the thought brought mixed feelings; sadness for leaving a friend and joy at the thought of rejoining the others. He then remembered Trowa's admonition not to get emotionally involved. The mission had to be accomplished regardless of his friendship with Pierre. Murmuring goodnight, he turned over onto his side, pulling his braid over his shoulder to hold onto it. With a deep sigh of regretfulness mixed with determination, he slowly relaxed into sleep.

His chance came during lunch in the hotel restaurant. Earlier, Duo had seen the lap top on the desk in the adults adjoining room. Colonel Lafaiete stood in front of it and stretched as the two boy's entered the room ready for lunch. Jokingly, Dougal asked if the lap top had any cool games on it. The Colonel raised his eyebrows in rye amusement. "I wish there were." he replied. "I would prefer a computer game to the reality of war." he sobered.

Duo thought that an unusual thought coming from a career military officer in the OZ organization.

The plans were to leave for the yacht after lunch. Duo waited for the meal to arrive before he gasped slightly. Three pairs of eyes turned to him. "I forgot my motion sickness pills." He exclaimed softly. "I need to take them forty-five minutes before getting on a boat and with food. I'm afraid I don't do well on the ocean without them." he explained.

Colonel Lafaiete looked at his watch. "We have forty minutes before we need to depart." He told the boy.

Duo stood. "If you'll excuse me, I'll run to the room and take them."

"But, your lunch." Mrs Lafaiete looked concerned.

"If I don't get back shortly, I'm sure they will wrap it up for me." he replied.

Pierre made as if to stand.

"No, Pierre. You enjoy your lunch. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" Duo hurried to stay the other. He couldn't download his father's computer with the boy next to him.

Pierre sat back in his chair. "Alright, we'll wait for you here." he responded.

Duo turned and walked quickly from the restaurant. Once out of sight, he ran to the rooms.

Using his pass card, he went to his duffel bag and retrieved a small pouch, then moving through the connecting door, he entered Pierre's parent's room. It took only a moment to power up the portable computer sitting on the desk. He unzipped the pouch and inserted a small disc into the computer. The disc was the latest in gadgets the pilots and scientists cooked up to open any computer, bypassing codes or passwords.

He didn't have time to download all the files, so he decided to scan them quickly and pick those that pertained to his mission.

There were files on mobile suit refinements and improvements. The location of key bases to be used in production and shipment of suits were listed. But the file that caught his eye was titled Gundam Pilots. While downloading the other files, he opened his file and was surprised to see his face pop up on the screen. A description of him was sketchy, as were the blurred pictures. But the detailed description of his decimated targets was a long list that followed beneath his description. He sat stunned for a moment at the tallied number of lives lost that were attributed to him alone.

"I'm disappointed, but not surprised." a deep male voice sounded behind him, causing the Deathscythe pilot to instantly jump into a battle stance as a matter of reflex, his fingers working behind him to shut down the computer and remove the disk.

"I'm sorry." he began, hoping to talk his way out of this situation. "I was curious to see if you had any games."

Colonel Lafaiete stood in the connecting doorway between the two rooms, his feet spread apart and his hands behind his back. "You can do better than that Dougal, or shall I call you 02?"

Hearing his code number seemed to switch the boy's demeanor and attitude from embarrassed and innocent, to a look of cunning and danger. The boy's eyes narrowed as he sensed the peril he was in.

"Now, none of that." the Colonel admonished and then shook his head in disappointment. "Pierre is going to be hurt by this."

Duo's face softened minutely as well as his stance. "I'm sorry." he said again, but this time sincerely. "I like Pierre, and he is a good friend."

"After recognizing you from the description given to me, I suspected you attached yourself to him to gain access to me, and that you'd make a move today." The taller man stated.

Duo nodded, looking the colonel in the eye. "At first, that was my objective, but I really do like Pierre. He's a cool guy and......so are his parents." he said almost apologetically.

"You let this mission get too personal, didn't you, 02?" he asked, not moving from the doorway.

Duo didn't answer, but looked quickly at the doorway leading to the hallway, calculating his chances of reaching it.

"I can't let you go." the colonel said, seeing the glance.

"And I can't let you capture me." Duo replied then jumped forward in a rush for the door leading to the hotel hallway.

He heard something pop, and at the same time, he was struck in the shoulder. He reached the door when he felt another strike his left buttock. A deep, drugged weariness settled over him as he reached his hand back and pulled an object out of his skin. It was a syringe dart he realized. Even as he slid down the door to collapse on the floor, his body succumbing to the drug, he raged inwardly at being taken prisoner before his mind fell into darkness.

TBC

  
  



	6. part 6

Breaking Free

By Dyna Dee 

Part 6

As he came to a small semblance of awareness, the first thought that came to the Deathscythe pilot was that he felt terrible. Always sensitive to drugs of any kind, he fought the urge to throw up as he returned to consciousness. He groaned out loud at his misery and curled into a ball, clutching his stomach.

"Dougal?" Pierre's voice sounded close and concerned.

Duo tried to moisten his lips, his mouth tasted like the inside of a dirty sock. "Water." he croaked out, the fog hovering in his mind began to slowly dissipate.

He moved his body where nudged, onto his back, and felt a paper cup pressed to his lips as his head was gently raised, he drank greedily as if he hadn't had nourishment for days. He drained the cup and slowly forced his eyes open. Pierre was above him, his face looking sad and his brown, bespectacled eyes concerned. Duo clutched his stomach and frantically looked around the room and, as quickly as his drugged body allowed, he crawled with all haste over to the portable toilet in the corner and promptly threw up into it. Not having eaten in a while, the fluid below him in the plastic bowl consisted of stomach bile and the water he'd just ingested. 

Making his way back to his bed on hands and knees, he sat and turned his head, taking in his surroundings. He was in a room, a stark and empty room, painted in a shade of pale yellow. There were no windows, nor pictures on the walls. He registered the absence of chairs or a table, and the only means of lighting was a recessed flourescent light twelve feet up on the ceiling. He realized that, other than the portable toilet in the corner, he lay on the only other item in the room, a mattress with no bed frame. Both he and the mattress were positioned on the floor in one corner of the naked room. He took note of a pillow and two blankets on the mattress and the lack of sheets on the bed. Still feeling woozy and a bit dizzy, he moved to lay down again and Pierre reached out to help. He was irritated that his hair was un-braided and in a tangled disarray around him, and noted also that he wore a pair of pajamas. Someone was being very careful to see that he had no means of escape.

"Where are we?" he asked the French boy in a deep groggy voice.

"We're in my home, in Paris." Pierre said sadly.

"How?" he couldn't remember coming here.

"You've been out for almost two days now. We brought you here by private jet just after my father used the tranquilizer gun on you." Pierre said quietly and then cautiously ventured on. "He says that you're a Gundam pilot. Is that true?"

Duo looked into the sad eyes of his friend. He looked......betrayed. He slowly nodded his head in answer to his friend's question.

"Now I understand why you wanted to be my friend." the boy's voice was full of hurt.

"No, Pierre." Duo reached out to touch the other boy's arm and was surprised when he didn't pull away. "I ....maybe at first," he began to explain, "but once we got to know each other, I counted you as a real friend and felt honored to have your friendship in return."

"But you lied to me." The brown eyes accused him.

Duo shrugged. "My feeling of friendship wasn't a lie. But surely you can understand why I couldn't tell you the truth."

There were several moments of silence between the two and Duo took that time to scan the room once more. "Why am I not in an OZ prison?" he asked, curious about his situation.

"I begged my father not to turn you in." Pierre explained quietly. "He knows what would happen to you there: interrogation until they get information from you, a trial, and possibly an execution." Pierre looked up as if he, too, were about to be tortured, then suddenly the frown on his face softened and he continued. "My father really is a kind man, unlike many in the military. We've all had a hard time seeing you as a terrorist and not an exchange student."

"Don't underestimate your enemies." Duo said and was surprised to hear some of Heero's words of advice come out of his mouth.

"Are you really my enemy?" Pierre asked thoughtfully. "Would you really hurt me or my parents?

Duo looked at the boy and felt badly things turned out the way the had. He shook his head. "No, you're not my enemy. OZ and Rommafeller are. I wouldn't hurt you, not intentionally, but I can't let you keep me here either."

Pierre nodded sensing his friend's honesty. His father had warned him that his friend would try to escape and that was why they needed to take every precaution. He had also said that, in the long run, removing 02 from the war would most likely save his life and keep him safe from his dangerous life as a rebel soldier. The Colonel had asked his son to trust him, that together they could save his young friend from himself. Pierre steeled himself as he spoke to the boy laying listless on the mattress. "You're going to stay here with us until the war is over." he announced firmly. "If you behave, my mother will continue your education as she's a trained educator."

"My friends will come for me." Duo replied with a quiet confidence, his eyes closed.

"How will they know you are here?" 

"They will learn of my mission objective and follow my leads."

Pierre shook his head and sighed. "My father filed a report to OZ stating that you befriended me and, while in Monte Carlo, you stole classified information and disappeared. I was, of course, reported to be devastated by the betrayal of a friend and returned home with my parents to attend a local school. On OZ's records, your mission was successful and you disappeared."

Duo' mind traced over Pierre's words as he listened to him speak. He knew that when he didn't report in on schedule, Heero would scour OZ's files to discover if he had been captured. OZ usually made a public display of any of the gundam pilots who had been caught in the past. "My friends will look for me." He said again, though in warning to Pierre or to reassure himself, he wasn't sure.

"Are you so sure?" Pierre's eyebrows rose with the question. "If you told me the truth about your breaking free of them to find your independence, won't they believe that maybe you are doing it again? After you've been missing for a long time, maybe they'll believe that you met with an unfortunate accident. They will eventually stop looking. After all, they do have a war to fight, don't they?"

Duo pulled all of his thick brown hair over his right shoulder and began to finger comb through the tangles. "Will I get my clothes back?" he asked sourly, wanting to change the subject that had him doubting the others and his chances of escaping.

"No." Pierre answered and continued on even though Duo's head shot up and his eyes narrowed. "My father doesn't want to take any chances, so you will wear pajamas like the one you have on now."

Duo looked down and inspected the soft cotton garment. All the buttons had been removed and the front was held together with velcro.

"My mother found some very interesting things in your hair." Pierre continued as he studied the boy in front of him and his reactions to everything he said. He was clearly trying to understand this boy he had called a friend. "Is that why you grow your hair, to hide tools in it?"

"No." Duo spoke softly. "That's a side benefit." He looked up from his long hair to meet the other's questioning brown ones. "Do you really want to know why?" he asked.

Pierre nodded and the boy from L-2 began his tale of his childhood friend, Solo, and their struggle as wandering orphans on a colony that didn't want them and ignored their needs along with many other throw-away kids. His voice dropped as he spoke of the plague and how he had to steal the vaccination that was denied them because of their lowly station in life. He told him of Solo's death and how he was taken in by Father Maxwell and Sister Helen and briefly described the orphanage. "It was stark in relation to worldly things, but it was a home where caring and love existed." he sighed deeply, feeling the loss as he always did when he spoke of those times. He then told the sheltered and protected son of an OZ Colonel the horrifying tale of the destruction of the orphanage and it's occupants as a political statement, because he had stolen an archaic mobile suit for the rebels and was recognized as the Little Demon from Maxwell's Orphanage.

Duo's eyes glazed over as his mind recalled the vivid memories of his return to the destroyed building. "They were all dead." he whispered. "Father Maxwell, Sister Helen and all the children. Killed by the Alliance without mercy." An unbidden tear slid down his cheek in memory of those who had died so horribly and uselessly, because of him.

"This was hers." Duo reached up to take hold of his cross, but his eyes opened wide in horror to find it not there. "Oh no." He moaned and sat up quickly to search around him looking frantic.

"In your pocket." Pierre suggested, seeing what the other boy was looking for. "My mother thought that it looked like something you would need, so she put it in your pocket."

His hands quickly reached into the breast pocket on the front left side of his pajama top. A small smile of relief graced his face as he beheld the familiar article in his hand. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed it and made the sign of the cross before he began the struggle to free the clasp.

"Here," Pierre reached out to the hands made ineffective by the drugs still in his system. "Let me help."

Duo mumbled his thanks and looked back into the sympathetic brown eyes. "Sister Helen use to wash and braid my hair. Told me I didn't have to cut it if I didn't want to. They were good to me." Duo's voice trailed off to a whisper. "It's for them that I keep my hair long." he lifted the long ends of his hair. "For Solo, and the innocents at Maxwell's Church. They were still alive and happy when she brushed and braided this part of my hair." he spoke quietly as he held up the lower half of his long hair. "It's like a visible reminder of my past, of where I was and why I am here now." 

His eyes took on a steely look to them. "They all died unjustly, and I fight not to just avenge their deaths, but to prevent it from ever happening again to someone else."

Pierre was not unaffected by the emotional tale he had just heard. It opened up a whole different perspective on the war, and why the colonies sent the gundams. His heart went out to the young soldier in front of him. "Oh, Dougal." he said sadly.

"It's Duo." the braided boy informed him.

"Duo." Pierre tried the name out on his tongue and nodded his head as he stood. "Thank you for telling me your story. I think it's helped me to understand better why you do what you do. I admire your courage to act on your convictions."

Duo didn't respond. He couldn't find it in himself to smile as he heard his friend's words. Telling the tale of his past always took something out of him. In a way he felt like a piece of him died with each telling. He slowly lay himself back down on the mattress, and for a moment took pleasure in the softness of the pillow.

"I'll go and get you something to eat." Pierre announced and moved to the door. With a simple knock, the door opened and quickly closed, leaving the boy from L2 alone with his thoughts.

TBC


	7. part 7

Breaking Free

By Dyna Dee

Part 7

Duo realized that it would take time for the double dose of tranquilizers to leave his system, but after the fifth day from when he woke up in the stripped-down room, he came to the conclusion that he was being drugged on a regular basis. He slept a lot and felt a strong lethargy, his mind and body felt dull, heavy, and weak. Whatever they were slipping him, it made him horribly nauseous.

"Why are you drugging me?" he asked accusingly to the Colonel when he visited him that night.

The older man didn't look in any way apologetic to the confined boy. "I know, as a soldier, it's your first objective to escape. You and your comrades have done it successfully before. I can't allow you to do that now. You pose a threat to myself and my family."

Duo looked up at him in misery, clutching his stomach. "I don't like feeling like this." he complained in a moan. "I've always been sensitive to drugs of any kind, and they make me feel sick."

The colonel looked down in slight concern at the boy curled up in his blankets and laying on the mattress placed on the floor. He'd cleaned the portable toilet out enough to know he'd lost several meals to nausea. "I'll have the dose decreased." he said in way of a compromise.

The incarcerated boy did feel slightly better in the days to follow from the decreased dosage, but found that he was still mentally and physically lethargic. Life in his room of confinement quickly set into a pattern. His three meals a day were served regularly, and after breakfast, he was given magazines, books, and paper and pencil to entertain himself. Pierre arrived after lunch to study with him. He attended a public school in the morning, but home-studied under the direction of his mother with Duo in his room each weekday afternoon. To break up the monotony, Pierre sometimes brought a radio, comic books, or a deck of cards to pass the time after their lessons were finished.

The colonel visited every evening to ask questions. He answered some of them, but only those that wouldn't reveal anything of who was behind their orders, where the gundams were built, or any information regarding the other pilots nor the data on the gundams or resources that supplied their hide outs.

As time passed, the Deathscythe pilot had lost count of how long he had been trapped in his room. He'd set up a transmitting beacon on a frequency the pilots all used for emergencies to go off in his gundam if he didn't return to it within a three-week period of time from his last visit. It was a safety precaution they all took in case they were captured or killed. The deadly machine of war could then be located and retrieved for future battles. Had it been three weeks? He wondered. Would the others come looking for him, or would they assume he had been killed, or worse, quit the cause? 'No.' he shook his head, willing the negative thoughts away. His last conversation with Trowa had been a good one. They would know he hadn't just quit. Heero would search for him. Wouldn't he?

A knock sounded on the door and the Colonel entered the room, just as he did every night. He walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress next to him and studied the long-haired boy. He noted the dazed look in the half-closed eyes, the sedatives in his evening meal had already taken effect. "I suppose," he began slowly so the boy could understand him. "That you could look at this time in your life as a turning point, a new lease on life." he observed dryly.

Duo looked up puzzled. "How so?"

"I've taken you out of the war." the older man replied with a smug smile. "You will survive and you won't have to kill anymore."

Duo nodded slowly. "I suppose you could look at it that way." he replied, his words in French slurring. "But are you so sure OZ is right?" he asked. "Have the atrocities stopped? The domination of the colonists? How about the construction of mobile suits or the mobile dolls, or war stations pinpointing weapons on the colonies? Are they the true peace keepers? As long as the colonies are oppressed by Earth's rule, whether it be the Alliance or OZ, I will fight."

The colonel reached over and pushed aside the long bangs away from in front of Duo's large, glazed eyes and a tender look settled on his face. "You are so young to have such strong convictions. If our soldiers had the same level of conviction as you do, this war would be over."

Slowly, Duo shook his head and replied. "Only if they truly believe their cause is a righteous and just one could they have the same level of conviction." He smiled to himself as his eyes closed, thinking Wufei would be proud of his last statement. He'd gleaned at least something from the rants on justice.

**********

Time passed, and Pierre inadvertently informed Duo that well over a month had passed since he had been confined to his room. A surge of anger rose at his impotent state. There was nothing in the room to use to open the door, and with the daily drugs in his system, he couldn't seem to focus his mind to formulate a plan. He reasoned that, by now, the other pilots would have recovered Deathscythe.

The Lafaietes were kind to him in their own way, despite keeping him in an enclosed room and drugged. He had not been given over to OZ nor beaten or tortured for information, which was a surprise and a relief. Added to the fact that he understood they looked at his imprisonment as saving him from himself. But as nice as they tried to be to him, he wanted to break free of this confinement. Several times he pondered the irony of his imprisonment. Initially, he had run from his friends complaining about the confining rules, only to find he'd run into total confinement, every aspect of his life was controlled. It put a whole new spin on his ideas of being previously stifled and contained by rules. At this point, all he wanted was to return to his friends, his only family. He'd be more than happy to live with the rules that he'd once viewed as constricting. He could see more clearly now, even in his drugged state, that they were set for a reason, for his and the others' safety.

To gain control over the situation, he began to refuse breakfast and lunch, knowing the drugs they fed him daily was in the food. He also began to exercise during the morning, to build up his strength after weeks of inactivity. As his energy returned, the drugs wearing off, he began to pace the room like an agitated, caged animal. The confinement was wearing thin on him.

"I can't stand this much longer!" he snapped at the french boy who nervously watched him pace almost ferociously back and forth, from one corner of the room to the other. "I've lived most of my life outdoors." Duo complained loudly. "I'm going to go crazy confined like this."

"At least you're alive." his friend tried to reason with him. The long haired boy spun to glare at him.

"Alive?" he shouted "I might be alive, but I'm certainly not living!" he dragged his hand through his tangled mass of loose hair.

"If you'd eat your breakfast you wouldn't feel this anxious." Pierre said gently.

"No," Duo spat angrily. "I'd spend the day in a drugged, zombie-like state. Is that any better?"

Pierre left shortly after their tense discussion feeling frustrated at not being able to console his friend and alarmed at his growing anger. He did not return to the room for several days after that, as a precaution imposed by his parents. His recent confrontations with the gundam pilot left him ill at ease and they worried that the imprisoned boy could become dangerous without the sedatives to calm him. After a family council, the Colonel informed the pilot that his son would not return to the room unless he began to eat his meals again. Four days after that conversation, the imprisoned boy relented, desperate for a break in the silence and boredom.

Pierre entered the familiar room noting immediately that Duo lay curled up tightly on his mattress. "Want to play some cards?" he asked brightly, glad for a chance to return to his friend.

Duo shook his head, and Pierre noted the dazed look had returned to his friend's eyes and inwardly felt sorry for it. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked as guilt washed over him.

"No." came the soft, slow reply. "I let them drug me so you could visit."

Pierre moved to sit on the mattress and picked up his friends limp hand. "I'm sorry." he whispered.

"Yeah, sure you are." Duo snorted sarcastically.

Pierre took a deep breath. "Well then, what do you want to do?" he quickly changed the subject.

Duo shrugged his pajama clad shoulder. "Not in any shape to do anything." He replied, his voice slurred. "Just talk to me."

"Alright." Pierre smiled as he squeezed his friend's hand. "You remember me telling you about my friend Jacques?" 

Duo nodded.

"Well, he introduced me to a new guy at school. He transferred here from colony L-4. His name is Quatre Barton, a short blonde guy. He seems really nice, maybe a little too polite though." Pierre stopped his description of the new kid in school when Duo took in a sharp intake of breath. "What's the matter? Do you know him?" he asked suspiciously.

"No." Duo answered, hoping to cover up his lapse in control as hope surged through him. "I'm just really nauseous from the drug and feel like I'm going to throw up." he answered sounding miserable. "Just keep talking and I'll try to fight it."

Pierre relaxed, knowing the effects the tranquilizers had on his captive friend. "Well," he continued. "I asked if he was related to Quatre Winner, the heir to the Winner Empire. He said half the colony's boys were named after the Winner heir." Pierre then went on to describe his new acquaintance and some of the tales he had related about living on a colony in space.

"You should ask him if he's ever seen an L-2 Sea Dragon." Duo groggily suggested. "It's a rare sight, and if he's traveled at all, he could tell you about it."

"Why don't you tell me, since it's from your colony?" Pierre asked, hoping to get Duo to communicated more with him.

"Can't." He moaned and curled up tighter on his side. "I don't feel well."

Pierre helped him to sit up and drink some water from a pitcher he'd brought in with him. Setting him back down, he watched as his friend fell into an uneasy sleep.

Duo heard the door shut as Pierre left the room. He turned his face into his pillow and silently gave into the tears that he'd held back from the miserable feeling of being helpless, weak, sick, and vulnerable. But now his tears were also shed with a shred of hope that his friends were close to finding him. 

Several days passed in a drugged haze, and Duo realized that it could have been as long as a week since he began to take his meals and live in a dreary oblivion. Pierre came bounding into the room one day, only to stay for a few moments.

"Guess what?" he asked the barely conscious boy on the mattress.

Duo managed to open his eyes and tried to focus on the speaker.

"Jacques and Quatre are coming for supper so I won't be able to eat with you tonight. But I'll be sure to come back after they leave and tell you all about it." Pierre said enthusiastically. 

The boy on the mattress nodded. "Did you ask him about the Sea Dragon?" he managed to croak out.

"Yeah, I did." Pierre happily replied. "He looked surprised at first, saying not many people on earth had heard of it before and was surprised I had. He said it was a beautiful, delicate creature that inspired awe. I think I should like to see one." He declared.

"Then you must travel to L-2, for it is the colonies treasure, kept hidden to preserve it." Duo lied without guilt.

"Hum....maybe one day." Pierre mused. "After the war is over." He then turned back to the door. "Mother will bring you your supper soon." he called back.

"Can't eat." Duo moaned, clutching his stomach. "Please, Pierre," he whispered a plea. "Tell them to decrease the dosage. I'm sick all the time now."

Pierre frowned and turned back, kneeling down he bent to brush back the sweat slick bangs from off the moist forehead. "Father will bathe you tonight if you eat your supper. You'll feel better then, and I'll tell mother about the medication."

Duo nodded and looked up at his friend looking pitiful. "Thank you." he whispered. His hair had not been brushed since he began eating breakfast again. He was too drugged out and sick to care or try. He snorted in disgust. He was in a no-win predicament. If he didn't eat, he was denied contact with anyone. And though he might feel better physically, his mental stability was threatened. When he was left alone for long stretches of time without human contact or anything to do, he felt the dark well of loneliness and boredom engulf him, bringing him closer to losing his mind.

He dutifully ate the soft textured food that was pressed to his lips by Pierre's mother. It tasted like potatoes with gravy, and a broth soup. His deep lethargy continued, and he was dimly aware of being picked up and soon after, being lowered into warm water. He weakly tried to push away the hands that cleansed his body, but calmed completely as his scalp was gently massaged with fragrant shampoo.

He slowly woke, realizing he was back in his room. He felt and smelled clean, for which he was grateful. Looking up, he saw Colonel Lafaiete sitting next to him. He concentrated on focusing his blurred vision on what the man was doing. His eyes slowly focused to see Pierre's father was filling a syringe with a clear fluid. The Colonel then turned to look at him.

"Good, you're awake." he smiled as if they were about to embark into a pleasant conversation. 

"What the hell's that?" Duo asked alarmed, though his words and tone were dulled and slurred.

"Truth serum."

Duo felt panic set in. If he mentioned Quatre's name, it would ruin any chance of his being rescued and might endanger his friend. "No, don't." he pleaded weakly, putting his arm up in a feeble attempt to stop what was about to happen. "No more drugs." he begged.

"I just need some answers. It won't hurt, I promise." The colonel looked down with a trace of compassion on his face.

"If you get anything from me, where would you tell your superiors you got it from? Your own captive gundam pilot?" he questioned, feeling panic rising in him.

The man shrugged. "I can always say it came from an underground source."

Duo, unable to struggle against the colonel, whimpered as the needle pressed into his bared arm, and felt the injected fluid flow into his veins. He mentally tried to focus and concentrate. Even in his drug induced state, he knew he had to fight this. He needed to be strong, like Heero would be in this situation. 'I need to be like Heero' he told himself. His friend would never succumb to drugs.

"Who?" the Colonel asked, leaning over him with interest, a notebook in his hand.

"I need to be like Heero." Duo whispered. Finding strength in the statement, the Deathscythe began to chant this phrase over and over in his desire to be like his friend, and hoped that the words would occupy his mind enough that he wouldn't say anything else. As the drug deepened, a feeling like a blanket of fog shrouded his mind, and the mantra he repeated came out to the shortened phrase, "I need Heero." He spoke it over and over, overriding the deep male voice above him asking indecipherable words, until he was aware of nothing but the comfort of a deep sleep.

********

A bright light flashed into his eyes, and he became aware that his eyelid was being most uncomfortably held open. He tried to turn his head from the offensive light and touch.

"Drugged." said a vaguely familiar voice that was close by, but seemed at the same time to be at a great distance. Fearing the interrogation was beginning again, he began his chant. "I need Heero." he whispered in an attempt to drown out the voice, not wanting the truth serum to get anything out of him.

"I'm here, Duo." a different voice reassured him. Tuning out the voices, he began his litany again: "I need Heero, I need Heero, I need Heero........"

Voices murmured soothingly as he was picked up and carried. To where, he didn't know, or by whom. He only knew warmth, and a strange sense of security as he continued on with his repetitive phrasing.

*********

"Who are you?" a boy's voice challenged them as a bright light was switched on. The two pilots stopped just short of the kitchen door. Quatre turned around quickly, his gun pointed towards the sound of the voice.

"Quatre!" Pierre jumped in surprise as he recognized the bearer of the gun and then looked to the Japanese boy carrying Duo wrapped in one of his blankets..

"We're his friends and were taking him home." The blonde answered quietly but firmly.

"No!" Pierre gasped looking panicked. "You can't." He then rushed to explain to the unhappy looking boys who, he had no doubt, were gundam pilots. "We can keep him here. Safe, away from the war and killing, and from OZ. He's my friend. Please don't take him away." he pleaded earnestly.

Quatre stepped in front of the boy carrying Duo, his face was disapproving. "What kind of a friend keeps you locked in a room and drugged?" he asked accusingly.

"We were just trying to protect ourselves and him." Pierre rushed to explain just as Duo began to mumble again against the shirt of the boy who held him.

"What's he saying?" Pierre asked.

"He's saying 'I need Heero.'" the Japanese boy answered.

"Whose that?" Pierre inquired curiously.

Quatre answered. "His best friend."

"I'm his best friend!" Pierre said adamantly.

"Doesn't sound like it to me." The Japanese boy replied smugly.

"I need Heero, I need Heero...." Duo's voice whispered on and on.

Pierre watched helplessly as the stoic boy holding Duo held him closer and reassured him. "I'm here, Duo. Shhh, I'm here. It's all right now." he whispered comfortingly.

Quatre looked at the French boy with understanding. "If you are truly his friend, you'll let us go without raising any alarm. Duo wouldn't want us to hurt a friend." The boy's brown eyes grew wide at the quiet, pleasantly said threat.

"You'll take care of him?" Pierre asked.

"We will." The blond answered.

Hesitating for only a moment, the boy nodded, his eyes taking on a glint of certainty at his decision. "Then take him. Just....., please, tell him I'm sorry and that I'll....miss him."

Quatre nodded, then the three quickly exited the kitchen leaving Pierre to feel a keen sense of loss as the door quietly clicked shut.

*******

Duo was only vaguely aware of being held and transferred from one vehicle to another. He sensed, on and off, that he was being held by different people. Voices whispered reassurances, but the words and owner of the voices were lost to him.

Slowly emerging from the dark and hazy place that his mind and body were cloaked in, he felt the familiar nauseating feeling in his stomach, and bile rising in his throat. With a brief strangled warning, he felt hands supporting him as he emptied his stomach into a miraculously placed bucket. Gentle hands settled him back into what felt like a bed, and a cool cloth bathed his face and forehead. He fell back into a restless sleep, plagued by dreams of the past and present. 

When at last he found the strength to open his eyes, he realized that he was in a room he'd never been in before. It wasn't the stark, empty room he had previously inhabited, nor was it a hospital room or prison cell. It felt like a safehouse. From the dim light coming through the partially curtained window, he determined that it looked to be early in the morning or late evening, he couldn't tell for sure. He turned his head to see an empty bed across from where he slept.

"Heero." he whispered the name of the person who should be occupying that bed. The words that he had said endlessly while fighting the truth serum came back to him. "I need to be like Heero." he said again, just under his breath, finding comfort in the phrase.

"I'm here." a deep, sleepy voice sounded from behind him and Duo jumped at the unexpectedness of it. A strong arm came over his body and pulled him up against a strong chest."

"Heero?" he questioned with hope in his voice. Into his line of vision came the familiar face of his friend from over his shoulder, his dark brown hair was mussed with sleep, and the dark shadows under the cobalt blue eyes displayed the lack of rest.

"You're awake?" Heero asked, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

"You're real?" Duo replied, blinking his eyes at the other. Then together, they smiled at each other.

"Hai." Heero said as he lay back down and pulled the other against him in a protective hold. "Go back to sleep, baka." he ordered gently.

A moment of contented silence passed before Duo spoke. "Thank you for bringing me home." He sighed deeply. "I missed you, all of you."

He could feel Heero nod against his head. "Just don't go away like that again, alright? We need to work problems out instead of running away from them." He yawned and pulled the covers up over the two of them. "Let's talk it out later though, when your feeling better and the rest of us have had some sleep."

Duo nodded, to tired to keep up the conversation, and his eyes, feeling as heavy as his limbs, began to close again. But for the first time in a very long while, when he slipped back into the comfort of sleep, knowing his sleep was guarded by his friend, it was with a lingering smile on his face. He was home.

End 


End file.
